No More Goodbyes
by TheSapphireSky
Summary: In the aftermath of Moriarty's return and Sherlock's near exile, Molly accepts an assignment abroad and leaves without saying goodbye. Based on a prompt from OpalSkyLoveDivine, my 500th Tumblr follower.


_For opalskylovedivine._

Molly wrapped her thick scarf around her face one more time, burrowing deeper into the warm wool as the bitter Scandinavian wind battered her from all sides. She didn't terribly mind the cold, used to London's harsh weather, and the beautiful country shimmering a pearly white all around her begged to be enjoyed.

Treading carefully, she made her way out of town and toward the small river that wound down the valley before dipping into the ocean. Already the sun was setting, casting deep reds and hues of blue across the snow-covered mountains that rose around her and stars were beginning to sparkle over their peaks.

By the time she reached the bridge over the river, the sun had set and the moon had taken over, shedding its soft light over the rippling water.

Leaning on the railing, Molly stared out over the bay. The lights from the village shimmered in the night and she sighed wistfully. It truly was a beautiful place and she enjoyed every moment she spent there. But deep in her heart, in the place she locked away, a quiet yearning for home pulled to her when the silence was overwhelming.

Her thoughts so consumed with home this night, she didn't hear the sound of footsteps coming closer until a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

'Hello.'

Molly gasped and spun around to see a man standing at the foot of the bridge. Though his face was shrouded in darkness, her heart immediately knew who he was.

'Sherlock,' she breathed.

Garbed in his black coat, his dark silhouette stood out starkly from the moonlit snow. 'You left without saying good-bye.'

His deep, familiar baritone warmed her down to her toes. Her breathing quickened as he walked across the bridge, the snow crunching under his feet punctuating the telling silence. He stopped just out of arm's reach.

'You never gave me the chance,' she replied, wrapping her arms around her waist and staring up at him, letting him see the hurt and fear his silence and his almost-exile had caused.

Shame flashed across his face in the moonlight and he turned his head away for a moment.

'Are you intending to return to London?'

Molly looked down at her hands, pinching the pink wool of her gloves as she tried to find the words. 'When my assignment is over.'

She could practically hear the puzzle pieces falling into place in his mind, one by one. Assignment, pathologist, Norway, undercover, government-related, rogue MI5 branch, body part smuggling. Connection:

'Mycroft.'

She nodded. 'We have all the evidence we need. Now it's just a matter of waiting for Mycroft to send in his men.'

'So you're free. Free to come home.'

Molly looked up at him. Had she imagined the tinge of child-like hopefulness in his voice? 'I… suppose.'

His throat convulsed as he swallowed deeply and stepped closer. 'Do you want to stay?'

'What is there for me in London?' She whispered.

He hesitated for just a moment. 'Me.'

'You?'

'Yes.'

She blinked at him in numb surprise. He knew she understood what he meant, it was just a matter of believing it. 'Why?'

He tilted his head in question.

'Why would I return for you?'

His mouth opened, then shut. A frown appeared between his brows, as though he had not considered the idea that she would want a reason.

'You know how I feel, how I've always felt,' she stated strongly, though her heart was racing. 'And you've never given me any hope for anything more than a friendship, if drugs and slaps and fake relationships can be considered a healthy friendship. So if you want me to go back to London, tell me now, _why should I return for you?_ '

'Because I need you!' He blurted.

She stepped back in surprise at his outburst.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, schooling his features into a blank mask once more. 'I couldn't do it.'

'Couldn't do what?' She breathed.

'Be without you. I needed you, constantly. My mind… it started looking at the world and finding connections to you. A woman's bright pink scarf, long brown hair, the dismembered corpses … everything reminded me of you. And of your absence.'

Hope burned steadily in her heart, kindled by the frustrated passion in his voice.

'I need you, Molly. You are my constant, my voice of reason. You have broken into my Mind Palace and wreaked havoc with your sentiment and love, yet I do not want to lock you away, because I…'

He trailed off nervously, his eyes darting left and right as though afraid to hold her gaze. She moved closer until there was almost nothing between them. 'Yes?' She whispered, her eyes wide and hopeful.

He took a deep breath. 'Because I love you.'

The words were nearly lost in the hum of the night, so softly were they spoken. Molly closed her eyes and let them sink into her heart, memorizing the sound and feel of the words she'd so longed to hear.

A smile began to spread across her face and she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his hands on her waist.

'I love you, too,' she whispered and trailed her hands up his arms. His body shuddered under her touch and she felt a swooping sensation in her stomach at the thought that she had that effect on him. The moonlight danced across the sharp angles of his face and her breath caught at the faint scar that now ran along left temple down in a curve that ended just above his cupid's bow lips.

Without thinking twice, she pulled off her glove and lifted her hand to trace the scar. His eyes fluttered closed at her light touch and he subtly turned into her hand. Before she could pull back, his own gloved hand reached up and caught her wrist.

She gasped softly.

His eyes flashed open and she felt her stomach tumble at the intensity in his gaze. Tenderly, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to her palm, sending sparks along her arm directly to her heart, setting every nerve ablaze with life.

'No more goodbyes?' He whispered against her skin.

She swallowed deeply, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. His face was lined with every emotion he'd locked inside: fear, hope, uncertainty… and love.

'Only hellos,' she whispered.

He smiled softly down at her. 'Hello.'

She smiled and, lifting herself up onto her toes, pulled him in for a deep kiss, telling him 'hello' in her own way.


End file.
